


Better than Chocolate

by LadyArinn



Series: Tumblr Prompts Made Me Do It (Teen Wolf version) [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Fluff, Halloween, Kid Fic, M/M, None of the kids are Stiles' or Peter's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:49:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyArinn/pseuds/LadyArinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles bumps into Peter while taking around some trick-or-treating McCall-Yukimura's, and it kind of gets a bit out of hand and competitive. What are they competing for? Stiles thinks he knows, but...</p><p>Based on the tumbler prompt: Competing to get a trick-or-treating child the most candy AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better than Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> My first Teen Wolf fic! Wowza.
> 
> So, I have a word doc that has a list of all the AU and situation prompts I like off of Tumblr, which is about 30 pages long (and this is after some major editing). I pulled it open last night and my eye fell to "competing to get a trick-or-treating child the most candy AU", and I was inspired. I'm probably going to do some different series for different pairings or shows, and I guess this is step one.
> 
> Peter is not as much off the manipulative little shit he is as I'd like, but It's just how it turned out. Hopefully next time it will be better.

“Dude, I’m so sorry for this.” Scott says as he easily grabs one of the passing by shrieking children, picking them up and tying a glowstick around their wrist despite their screams of anger.

  
“No problemo.” Stiles waves his words away, making faces at the captured four year old until she stops her agonized protests. She sticks out her tongue at him, and although he logically knows that it is bad behavior and as a responsible adult he shouldn’t be encouraging it he returns the gesture, crossing his eyes to throw the hell-beast into a peal of giggles. “I get it. Poor Fifi needs emergency surgery and you hate your kids. Totally fine.”

“You hate us?” Joseph asks from where he is carefully tying his shoes on the floor, utterly betrayed by his father. Scott sighs, shooting a look at his best friend in the hopes that it would somehow get him to shut up.

“I love you very much, and could never hate you.” He says heavily, pausing just a moment as a thought occurs to him, “As long as you eat your vegetables.”

“Peppers are gross.” Joe grumbles, kicking his heel on the floor both to make his point and to watch his sneakers light up. Nikki turned around in her father’s arms to put her tiny hands on his cheeks, mushing them until his mouth was forced open and into a weird shape, leaning closely with a look of utter seriousness on her face.

“Carrots are mushy.” She tells him sternly, practically glaring at him as to properly convey the utter seriousness of what she was saying.

“Not if you don’t cook them.” He protests, word garbled a bit since she had yet to remove her hands. She squeezes a bit tighter.

“No.”

Stiles is unhelpfully cracking up at the display, so after heaving a world weary sigh Scott disentangles himself from the fruit of his loins and deposits her into his arms. Let him deal with it, he has a dog to save.

Stiles saves himself a stern lecture on the dangers of carrots by setting the child down onto the ground, not bothering to see where she runs off to. All the doors and windows are locked, and anything that Scott and Kira owned that was breakable had long ago been either broken or put away. The amount of trouble she could get into or do in the few minutes it took him to get lectured by Scott on what to do when taking three children trick-or-treating was probably minimal.

“Make sure they keep their glow sticks on so they don’t get hit by cars, and don’t let them eat any candy until you check it. And don’t let them eat too much, or I’m leaving them at your apartment until Kira gets back and letting you deal with them for the rest of the week. Don’t let Nikki spray anyone in the face even if you think it would be funny because we’re trying to get her to stop bullying kids before starting kindergarten, and don’t forget to take the Everything Bag with you.” Scoot said as he went around the house gathering everything he needed.

“I know how to take care of your children. I’ve done it often enough.” Stiles scoffed, feeling kind of bad for waving away his friend’s concern when he saw the pained and frazzled look on his face. He was obviously very tired from having run the gambit with his three children since Kira had left a week ago for two weeks of abroad work, and he was a little on edge. Apparently, photo journalists had to travel even if Halloween was coming up and you had children who were probably all demons in disguise.

The dude needed a break, and Stiles didn’t know if doing surgery on a dog could be counted as that, but maybe a while without his kids and then coming back to find them all unharmed and not the causes for any harm to other people or property would be enough.

“It’ll be fine, and if anything does happens I’ll call Dad. With the sheriff on backup duty, there’s almost nothing that can go wrong, right?” He prodded, getting a weak smile for his efforts.

“Right.” He turns to go do a round of good byes before leaving, but turns around just before he takes more than a step. “And don’t let Yoshito have any gum. He’s been obsessed with the stuff recently and I don’t want to cut his hair again.”

“Where’s your two year old been getting gum?” Stiles askes, confused and a bit concerned. Scott throws his hands up in the air and leaves to kiss all of his kids thirty times, assure them once again that he does not hate them, and then leave. As soon as the door closed Stiles rubbed his hands together and decided to get the show on the road.

“Alright, let’s do this thing.” He declares, “Role call first. Where’s my ninja?” He asks, turning to look at the room that had at one point held three children – that point literally being less than a minute ago – but now holding only two. He blinks down at Nikki, already feeling that first bit of dread that always comes with impending disaster.

“Where’s your brother?” He asks the four year old, and the little shit smirks and points to Yoshito where he was quietly putting all of his play bricks in a pile. He wasn’t even stacking them on top of each other, just… piling. Stiles ignores this odd method of play and instead glares at the arrogant child in front of him.

“Your older brother, which you know you terrible beast.” He tells her, putting his hands on his hips in an effort to intimidate her into respecting him. It failed to work, as her snickering informed him moments later. Stiles was about to just cut his losses and scream for the kid when he heard thundering footsteps racing down the stairs in the hallway.

Then in came a five year old dressed in a black ninja costume, with foam nunchucks in his belt and a… child sized play electric guitar on his back.

Joseph, seeing his babysitter staring, freezes and stares back, his eyes going as wide as possible in an intimidation technique that stiles had to admit worked a little bit.

God, how could Scott and Kira’s kids all be so weird? They were cute since they had their parent’s features and genes, but they were so weird and violent and creepy. There _had_ to be something supernatural causing it.

“Nice guitar,” Stiles says casually, “Not really a standard weapon choice.”

“I’m a rock and roll ninja.” The five year old states with complete sincerity and seriousness, and that’s when Stiles remembers that they all might be terrible beasts that probably took the place of Scott and Kira’s actual birth children who would have grown up sweet and gentle and impossible cute, but they were also the coolest kids ever. It completely made up for everything.

“Awesome.” Stiles states as he points at the boy. He gets a large, gap toothed grin in return.

“So we have our rock and roll ninja. Do we have Spiderman?” He asks the room, acting like he doesn’t see the red and blue clad child in front of him.

“Yes!” Nikki screams, one of the reasons why the McCall-Yukimura household often gets noise complaints when a new neighbor moves in, or when Mrs. Johnston is feeling extra bitchy that day.

“Good.” Stiles nods, and goes over to pick up the toddler who had moved on from his brick pile and was now just watching him. Just like all normal children do.

“And what about our werewolf?” Stiles asks once the child was in his arms. The child who was dressed in an neon green furry costume with a pull over hood that had pointy ears and large angry eyes on it, the toddlers favorite character from his favorite show that was apparently about brightly colored evil monsters getting together and doing good deeds for their monster community and dancing.

It was the stupidest show in the world, but if you turned it off Yoshito would scream and he had also apparently memorized where the clock hands were when the show came on, so he always demanded it to be out on in a similar manner. And, while it might have been the most idiotic show in the world, Stiles had to admit that the chubby toddler looked adorable.

The toddler’s eyes flashed and he growled, and Stiles took it for the agreement that it was.

“Arighty then. Yoshi and I will get the stroller, Joey and Nikki, you guys get your bags and the extra glow sticks. We will meet back in the hallway in a minute. Got it?” The children nodded and scampered off. The stroller was a struggle since Kira was the only one who knew how to efficiently un-collapse it, but he eventually got it and plopped the child in his arms into the front most seat. After a moment of a building low pitched whine that warned of an impending temper tantrum, Stiles pulled him right back out and placed him on the ground.

“Tell me when you get tired then, man. Alright?” He got another growl before Yoshito ran away to where his siblings were impatiently waiting. Stiles just followed after him.

“I grabbed the Everything Bag!” Nikki declared proudly, dragging the overfilled diaper bag over to him.

“Thank you very much, Warrior Princess Nikki. It is much appreciated.” He ruffles her hair, getting a playful bite to his hand in return that was still a bit too hard. “And what have your parents said about biting?”

She rolls her eyes and grumbles, and then heaves a sigh while he was in the middle of shoving the bag into the basket at the back of the stroller.

“Why aren’t we leaving?” She whines, and Stiles rolls his eyes skyward.

“Because I’m mean.” He grunts, finally getting the bag shoved into a spot where it would then be unable to move. They’re just about to exit the door when Stiles remembers that he should probably reiterate the dos and don’ts of what was going to happen tonight.

“Don’t leave my sight, don’t go up to a door unless I tell you you can. Don’t eat any of your candy yet, don’t bite or growl at any of the other children even if you’re mad at them and they’re mean. Do not run out into the road and do not talk to anyone who comes up to you and acts like a creepy person.” Stiles tells them, and the two oldest roll their eyes.

“Uncle Stiles, let’s _go_.” Joseph whines, and Stiles huffs.

“Anyone found to be breaking any of those rules will have their candy taken away, and they will have to watch me eat all of it.” He tells them, finding great pleasure in their screams of protest and indignation. And then they were off.

It was slow going because of the tiny legs, but it was going well especially considering it was still light out and who he was escorting around the neighborhood. No one was dying or being rude to anyone, and no one had started whining yet. About an hour into their journey, Stiles and his three little monsters bumped into some one Stiles hadn’t really been expecting.

 _“Peter?”_ Stiles gapes, staring wide eyed at the man who, last thing he had heard of, was doing something up at Stanford. Either teaching or blackmailing people, his informant hadn’t been too clear on that, and seeing as Derek was his informant the lack of clarity had to be expected. But really, a decade of not hearing anything about the guy except Derek’s occasional, “Peter says it’s a Shade. He’s looking into the best way to get rid of it. He also said he hasn’t murdered anyone recently, Scott.” Was a little shocking when you thought about it. The only other thing he knew about Peter was that he and Derek had come to as much of an understanding as they could or would, and speaking of Derek…

“Are those Derek’s kids?” He asks, watching the two children run up to the door and past the returning McCall-Yukimuras, suspicious. “Did you kidnap them?

The older man scoffed. “Yes, Stiles, I stole my nephew’s children and have proceeded to the second step of my devious plan. I’ve taken them trick-or-treating.”

Well, when he said it like that it sounded a bit stupid.

“And I thought you were the smart one of your little puppy pack.” He actually rolls his eyes at him like the three children under the age of six have been doing all night. “Derek claims that he is sick and Braeden is on a job. I happened to be in town and thus got roped into babysitting duty.”

“I thought werewolves couldn’t get sick?” Stiles asks, confused and a little curious, especially since it seemed that uncle and nephew now had a bit of a better relationship. It could either be because of Derek’s notoriously terrible decision making on who was trustworthy, or it could possibly be because Peter was actually trustworthy now. Most likely a lot of the first mixed in with a dash of the second.

Peter smirks.

“They can’t. Derek just used it as an excuse to get rid of the rugrats and have the house to himself so he can spend some time with his girlfriend on video conference.”

Stiles blinks at him for a moment before a snort of laughter takes him by surprise. “And do you tell everyone about Derek’s sex life?” He snickers, probably more amused than he should be.

“Tonight, yes. If he thinks he can force his children on me and there not be any repercussions then he’s even more stupid than I thought.” He says dryly, and they shut up as the children all return.

“Hey guys!” Stiles grins at the dark skinned, green eyed, positively angelic looking children Derek and Braeden had managed to have. The twins said their hellos, and Stiles crouched down to be on their level. “So I see Miss Daphne is Batman, but what about you, Lawrence?”

The boy blinked his big eyes and smiled shyly. “I’m a zoo worker. I work with the penguins.” He says, showing Stiles the stuffed penguin he had under his arm. Seriously, he was the prettiest boy Stiles have ever seen, and Daphne was the prettiest girl, neither of which were facts that he would ever share with Scott because he knew that the proud Papa would somehow take it as a betrayal.

“That’s super cool, man.” Stiles tells him, getting a flash of dimples in return. It was enough to make him think that one day having kids would probably be super great, if they could be half as cute and sweet as these two. The three terrors would do something eventually to get rid of that thought, though, so he knew it wasn’t a thought that would stick around for long.

“I’m Spiderman.” Nikki declares, stepping forward like she was making a threat, “Spiderman is better than Batman.” Daphne blinked at her, and Stiles felt his heart break a tiny bit because obviously Scott and Kira were doing something terribly wrong if _Derek_ was raising his children better.

“I think you’re wrong,” Daphne tells her with all the grace and calmness a seven year old can hold, “But Daddy says people are ‘llowed their o-pin-ons.”

Nikki takes that with all the grace a four year old can, which means that she shoves the older girl back with a growl. She gets a flash of golden eyes and a growl in return, and

Stiles hastens to intervene.

“We don’t push people because they disagree with us.” He says with a sigh as he picks up the tiny child. She growls again and even though she’s wearing a mask Stiles _knows_ that she’s glaring like a demon.

“I suppose I should congratulate you on your levelheadedness.” Peter says dryly to Daphne, raising an eyebrow as the child looks up at him, “Something you do not get from your father.”

“Thank you Uncle Peter.”

Peter nods, and looks at Stiles and the children around him judgmentally and imperiously. “You should really have that True Alpha of yours properly teach his children control. Or is that yet another thing McCall is too soft hearted to do?”

Stiles practically snarls, his previously easygoing attitude evaporating. “Shut your mouth about Scott, you…” He pauses a second and takes in the five sets of tiny and intently listening ears, as well as the dozens of others that was just wandering around, and flounders just a bit, “Potato. And yours was the one who antagonized the situation in the first place.”

“I think the one who antagonized everything was the one who attacked my innocent great niece, all because there was a differing of opinions. Is that how the McCall children are being raised?” He asks snidely, looking a bit too smug and gleeful about the entire situation for some reason that was unknown reason. Stiles grits his teeth against the growl that almost instinctively wants to come out, and figures that he’s probably been spending too much time with the vicious children around him.

“First off, it’s McCall-Yukimura. Secondly, Nikki apologized for that.”

“No she didn’t.” Peter and Daphne say at once, and after thinking about it Stiles realizes that their right. The whole child enlightening biz wasn’t really his thing, since most of the time he couldn’t remember or care about the rules himself.

“Nikki, apologize.” He demanded.

“No.” She growled, and Peter smirks at him.

“Really, with all of that charm and those manners, it’s amazing that they’re getting any candy. I guess people really are just filled with kindness and forgiveness. You have to wonder what that must be like.”

“They get plenty of candy. They’re going to get more candy than any of the other kids because that’s how cute and charming they are.” He sniffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He notes that Joseph and Nikki take on the same stance after studying him for a moment, their limbs folding over a bit awkwardly since they don’t really know how to move them. The mimicry adorable and heartwarming.

Peter just makes this face, this stupid fucking face that says very clearly that he finds that very unlikely, and it. Is. On.

“In fact, I’d bet on it.” He says coolly, and Peter smirks, amused and a little intrigued.

“What would you bet on it?”

Now _that_ he has to think about, because if he just rushes into this and promises something he shouldn’t he has no doubt in his mind that Peter would use it against him. So, after a moment of contemplating what he could give Peter that would hold his interest but not be harmful, he quirks a cocky eyebrow and smirks.

“Information.”

If the slight twitch of his eyebrows were indication, that proposal certainly caught Peter’s attention.

“Nothing too dangerous or harmful,” Stiles continues, “But it has to be something worthwhile to the person asking.”

Peter thinks it over, then smiles like he’d just been handed exactly what he wanted on a silver platter.

“Alright. Then if your two oldest can get more candy then my two, you win. But you can’t back out once the bet is made, and you can’t go buy any candy and just give it to them because you panic at the end.”

When Stiles grins, it’s really more a baring of teeth.

“See you in an hour, then? At the gas station down the street?” He asks, and when Peter holds out his hand his eyes are laughing like it was predestined that Stiles would lose. Well, he was about to show him.

Their hand shake is a bit too aggressive thanks to Stiles, and Peter lingers a bit which is… He has nice hands, and Stiles notices he smells nice for some reason. He jerks his hand away, blushing a bit for some reason at Peter’s smug smirk, and then they’re marching in opposite directions, tugging their confused charges with them. Once they’re down at the corner and hopefully far enough away, Stiles stops and crouches down, leaning in to whisper so that Peter can’t listen in.

“So, I need you guys to be as cute as possible and get so much candy that you’ll have enough for the next three Halloweens. Got it?” They nod, little faces furrowed in determination. At least, Joseph’s and Nikki’s were. Yoshito got distracted by a bug, as was crouching down to watch it crawl across the sidewalk. Stiles grabbed him before he could eat it.

The next house they went to, Stiles stayed close and analyzed their techniques. They were alright, but there were definitely things that could be improved on. They ran back and he crouched down. “Okay, so that was good. But Joey, smile with more teeth and show off your missing tooth. Adults go crazy for that. Nikki, don’t shove your brother so much. Pretend to like him, so that the adults will like you more. Got it?” They nodded, “Then let’s go win!”

There was more knocking and more “Trick-or-treat!”s, and Stiles noted that Nikki started to lisp a bit, the little manipulative deviant, peering up through her lashes and playing every adult like she was a professional conman. Joseph was doing exactly what he had been told, and was even going the extra step chattering cutely and playing up the charm with every flutter of his dark lashes, letting his curls fall into his face even though Stiles knew that he hated it, because for some reason the five year old had already figured out that people went crazy over the curls.

Stiles didn’t know how no one had ever noticed just how devious the children were, but he didn’t care because it was working perfectly in their favor. Maybe he should care, especially since he was helping them hone their techniques.

Then the little brats, when they were half way down their current row of houses, showed him exactly why he should care and should probably stop teaching them how to be even more manipulative and conning.

“So what do we get if you win?” Joseph asks, his eyes far too calculating for someone who had trouble spelling words that weren’t dog, cat, no, or Joe. Stiles narrows his eyes at him.

“All this candy, obviously.”

“What else?”

Never, _ever_ having children. Ever.

“What do you think you deserve?”

They get considering looks on their faces, and their silent for a few moments as they think about it. Then they stop walking, forcing Stiles to stop since they were in front of the stroller. Joseph and Nikki turn as one, and Stiles feels his throat tighten. Children are terrifying.

“Ten dollars.” Joseph demands.

“Each.” His sister tacks on, the little swindler.

Stiles sighs and decides it would just be best to get it over with. After all, it would really bite into their time and it would really hurt his pride and neighborhood standing to be caught fighting over money with children. “Fine. You’ll get ten dollars apiece when we win.” He tells them, pushing the stroller forward half an inch in the hope that it would urge them on. It doesn’t.

“Now.” They demand, and it’s really just too much.

“Why should I pay you before we’ve even won?” He asks, “What have you done to deserve it?”

The two of them stare at him with the scariest eyes he’d ever seen, and then between one breath and another Nikki has tears in her eyes and Jacob was sitting on the ground. “I want to go home.” She sobs, and her brother looks at him and whines, “My feet hurt.” The little shits. Somehow, some way, Satan had had a hand in their conception. He was sure of it.

“Fine.” He snaps, digging his hand into his back pocket to pull out his wallet and pull out his singles and fives and the one ten he had. He distributes it to them both, and they give him a considering look.

“Yo-Yo too.” Nikki demands, and Stiles grumbles as he hands the last of his singles to a curious two year old who immediately crumples them in his chubby fist.  
Stiles starts to put his wallet up, but Joseph stops him by tugging on his shirt. “Can you hold mine? I don’t have any pockets.”

“Mine too!” Nikki shouted, grabbing Yoshito’s and handing it to him too, and it just makes the entire thing burn a little bit more. He wouldn’t be surprised if the little shits knew that too, and it was why they had done it. Then they were on their way, the kids obviously putting a bit more effort now, and Stiles knew that if they won they would be asking for bonuses.

Yoshito started whining about half an hour into their competition, and when Stiles tried to put him into the front seat of the stroller he started making this growling screaming sounds until he was placed into the comfort of the back. Nikki nearly got into a fight with another Spiderman when the older boy insisted his costume was better, and then she tried to run away with another little girl who had been dressed up as Iron Man with a tutu when she had ran up and went, “Hey Spiderman, let’s go fight crime!” The little girl’s mother had been very apologetic as they had dragged their respective kids off in opposite directions.

He was tired to his very core when they finally entered the little gas station, the one that gave out little cups of Icees every Halloween to the trick-or-treaters. He wished that he could go to sleep just like Yoshito, but sadly he didn’t have anyone to push him around while he napped. Peter was already waiting, eating his own red Icee while the twins dug into their own, and the shit looked so damn smug and it should be criminal to look that good while you’re such a shit. Stiles suffers through a pointless argument between his now snappish charges over which color was better tasting with as much dignity as he can, ushering them over to where Peter and the twins were standing.

“Where shall we go to count the bounty?” He asks with that stupid smirk of his, and Stiles almost wants to hit him to get rid of it. But he’s too tired for violence, so he just shoves a spoon full of syrup covered ice into his mouth, and mumbles “Scott’s house.” Around it, struggling to turn the stroller around and leave.

By the time they’re at Scott’s Stiles is ready to go to sleep, but then he has to put everyone to bed and get some pillows and blankets for the twins when they fall asleep on the couch. The kids all demand their money, and Stiles pays up while feeling the mocking eyes of Peter on his back. Then it’s tucking everyone in and changing a pull-up and pouring cups of water, and finally he can sit.

Peter is waiting at the kitchen table with a smirk and a cup of orange juice that he had apparently helped himself to, and he nods to the other one that he had set out.

“Hard liquor would really be best after dealing with children for so long, but sadly it seems the McCall-Yukimura’s are against even wine coolers.”

Stiles can’t help but agree, but quirks an eyebrow anyways, “Werewolves can’t get drunk.” He points out, collapsing in his chair.

“We can still appreciate the burn of a decent whiskey or the taste of a good wine.”

“I can’t really believe that, because alcohol tastes disgusting. The only good thing about it is getting drunk.” Stiles snorts, pulling the plastic bags his two had used. The twins had used actual cloth bags that looked like they had actually cost some money, and he decided to judge them without prejudice. He starts to count out the pieces of candy, putting aside the ones that had partially opened wrappers or ones that looked wonky, but still counting them.

It took way too long, and he was lucky that he’d been keeping track by tens on a sheet of paper because he’d lost count four times, but in the end there was a total of two hundred and fifty seven pieces in his pile.

Stiles told this to Peter with a smirk, sure he had won because that was a fuck ton of candy for just an hour, but the answering smirk he got in return made is heart sink.

“Three hundred and four.”

“Switch places.” He demands, shoving back his chair and stomping over to the other side of the table to count even more candy.

Even later, he sighs and slumps in his chair. “Three hundred and five, you bastard. One was stuck beneath another.” He glares, trying to keep himself from throwing his glass at his face since that would just wake up the monsters. “How did you do it?”

Peter scoffs, leaning back casually and for a second Stiles thinks he noticed the muscles in his arm flexing and stretching out the sleeve of his black vee-neck as he laid it over the back of the chair next to him. “You wound me, Stiles. How could you ever think I would do something devious?” He chuckles at the flat look he gets. “Oh, alright then. I flirted with all of the moms and aunts and elderly ladies who seemed to be susceptible.” He smirks, and Stiles gapes.

“I should have expected as much.” He grumbles.

“At the very least.” Peter agrees gleefully. Stiles glares and Peter smirks for a few long moments, and then, too tired to keep it up, he shakes his head.

“Fine. So, what do you want to know?”

Stiles expects… something. He doesn’t know what exactly, but just something. Something he could use definitely, something manipulative and at least slightly important. But then instead he gets a bigger smirk, a show of teeth, and then Peter asking with almost too much glee, “What is your favorite restaurant?”

“What?” He asks blankly, sure he hadn’t heard right. But that smirk tells him he did.

“Where do you like to eat around here?” He asks, his voice lazy and his eyes practically dancing with amusement and glee. “Surely there must be something in this forsaken town that you happen to like. Doesn’t matter the price or kind.”

Was he asking for a restaurant recommendation? Seriously? Stiles hesitates a moment more before he manages to say, “Rosario’s over on fourth. Why?”

“Not bad. What are you doing Tuesday night?”

Stiles stares, because this is weird and he has no idea what this is about. He stares, because maybe he has a tiny idea but he doesn’t understand it.

“Laundry.” He says after a too long pause in their little question and answer.

“And are you currently seeing anyone?” Peter asks sweetly, just as fake as dollar brand syrup, and a lump forms in Stile’s throat.

“Is this your way of asking if you can fill the vacancy?”

“I’d hoped you would figure it out. I would have hated it if your wit had been dulled over the years.”

“Why?”

“Oh Stiles,” He sighs, and Stiles is annoyed. Definitely. There is no way he could be feeling anything else, “I’ve always found you intriguing. Derek and Malia – more so Malia,” He ignores Stiles’ baffled, _You talk to Malia?_ , and just talks over him, “Have been keeping me up to date on you since I’ve left, and then I pop on by for a short little visit and see how you’ve grown. And still, after all these years you intrigue me. It’s very rare that someone is able to do that in the first place, let alone keep it for over a decade.”

Stiles blinks, tilting his head as he studies the man across from him. He’d aged well, with no wrinkles and only some silver threading through his temples, and it would be a really stupid lie to claim that he wasn’t handsome. He definitely was. But it was Peter. _Peter_. How could he even be considering this? Scott would flip. He would probably flip just hearing the man had had some of his orange juice.

But Scott didn’t run his life and Stiles did have to admit that he was, just as Peter was, intrigued.

“Late dinner alright with you? That way we don’t have to deal with a wait.” He finally decided that fuck it, if it was awful he’d probably be able to go another ten years without seeing the man. Plus, if it went really wrong, Stiles would be able to show him that he could do more than throw a Molotov cocktail now.

“Is Seven thirty acceptable?”

“Yeah. It even gives me time to do my laundry. We can meet there.”

“Perfect.” Peter practically purrs, standing up languidly, reaching out to trail his finger down the back of Stiles’ hand. It really shouldn’t make him shiver the good kind of shiver, because it was creepy. Peter was creepy. That is what Peter was and would always be.

Peter put a bag each into the crook of his elbow, and then a seven year old was scooped up into each of his arms, their heads resting on his shoulders and their faces nuzzling into his throat. It’s an adorable picture, and maybe it shaves away some of his reserves. But really, who could blame him when faced with something as heartwarming as that?

Of course, the pained look on his face as he picked up his great niece and great nephew added a certain something to the picture, a something that nearly had him bursting out with an ugly, honking laugh that would have woken up the peacefully sleeping children.

“See you Tuesday.” Peter promises as he leaves, and Stiles is curious about what he would have to do to wipe that smirk off. It was kind of annoying.

When Scott comes back home half an hour later, Stiles tells him his own smirking smile is because he took some Reece’s and a Snickers from the kids’ bags. He had, of course, so it wasn’t technically a lie.

Those monsters had weaseled thirty dollars out of him. The very least he deserved was some sugary treats that would be completely wasted on the unrefined palates only looking for a sugar rush. Scott agreed when he pointed this out, and they spent the next twenty minutes poking through the bags and pulling out their favorites to eat or squirrel away. If they questioned some of the best candy being gone, they would just tell them that they’d had to toss it with all of the other potentially unsafe candy.

“You know,” Stiles says as he munched on a Kit-Kat, “There has never actually been any cases of tampered with candy. The cases that got it all started was some guy that killed his kid for the insurance money and a family that put drugs in their kid’s candy because he’d gotten into his uncle’s cocaine and died.”

“That’s fucked up dude.” Scott says bluntly, and Stiles nods, “But I’m still throwing it away. Knowing our luck, I don’t throw it away and my kids end up poisoned or dead or something. And not only would Kira absolutely destroy me, but her mom would come after me too.”

Stiles winced in sympathy, nodding his head. “Yeah dude, you’d be toast in under a minute.”

“Yup. So, are you going to tell me why my house smells like Peter Hale?”

“Oh. We bumped into him out there in the wild, taking Derek’s kids around. He came back here after to rest a bit.” Scott nods, tilting his head back to down a pixie stick. Suddenly, Scott’s potential reaction seemed less intimidating and more potentially funny. “And I agreed to go on a date with him next week.”

Scott’s head whips up, eyes bugging and a little bit of pink powder on his lips.

_“What?!”_

“Don’t make a big thing about it. It’s just dinner.” Stiles defends himself, feeling his face flush just a bit.

“It’s weird! Wait, do you like Peter? Like actually like him?”

“Dinner, Scott. It’s just dinner. We’re not exchanging promise rings or asking each other to go steady.”

“You dated his daughter! You used to have a crush on his nephew!” Scott’s eyes narrow. “Are you just going through the Hales? Is that it? Is Cora next?”

“Oh my God,” Stiles groaned, letting his head hang back so that he can stare up at the ceiling. “No. That’s weird Scott, and it isn’t my fault that there is some gene that makes the Hales unfairly attractive.”

“I’ve never found any of the Hales attractive.”

“Liar.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yup. Remember that dream you had about Derek?” The silence that comes after his question is the most beautiful kind of victory.

“That was one time, and dreams are really weird!” Stiles is almost certain that he won’t bring up Peter again, but he doesn’t know who he thought he was fooling because this was Scott and of course he wouldn’t let it go.

“Peter? Really Stiles? He’s evil.”

“Scott, I swear to whatever deity you’d like to believe in that if you don’t shut up about this, I will tell Kira about the Derek dream.”

“It’s just-”

“I will tell _Derek_ about the Derek dream.”

Silence for a moment or two and then, “You wouldn’t.” But he sounds unsure.

“Try me, dude.”

He doesn’t, and Tuesday’s dinner turns out to be a lot of fun, surprisingly. The equally enjoyable ones that stretch on after that eventually become the mundane status quo, not surprising to anyone. After all, Tuesday night is date night.

But that's later.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not really too sure about that ending, but it just didn't feel right to end it when Peter left.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you have a great day!
> 
> (Title randomly given by CaptainKenway, the beautiful darling)


End file.
